I think this may be my favorite song of the year. I just love it. I want to hear it over and over. I want to dance around to it. I want to rub up on cute folks while this song plays. I want to sing it loudly while I do the dishes. I want to drive around in my car with it blaring. I’m crazy for it.
For reasons it doesn’t take an idiot to figure out, the Butcher does not have a bank account. And he owes me a great deal of money for his misadventures in my car. So, we had to run to USBank so that he could sign his paycheck over to me.
We do that and the teller runs off to do whatever tellers do when they disappear with your check and deposit slip and the Butcher looks over at the FDIC sign and says “Is that insurance for $100,000 per person or $100,000 per bank or $100,000 per bank branch?”
And, America (and other folks) I am sorry to say that I just tilted my head back and laughed, long and hard.
“Like you’re ever going to have to worry about that!”
Fucker got pissed. PISSED.
Now he says that, if he wins the lottery, he’s not buying me a house.
At least he’s talking to me again. But it was pretty lonely at Kroger for the first 15 minutes.